You're My Strength
by Cygrus
Summary: America's birthday sucks. Severely. And so did that damn nightmare he had.   Poorly written 'Happy Birthday' fic for America. Read at your own risk.


**This. Is. Half. Assed.**

**As I keep making apparent to Darxetta.**

**By constantly interupting her.**

**'Tis fun. **

**Anyways, this is a "Happy Birthday, America!" fic. That was posted late because I kept getting distracted. FML.**

**I based the fic on the FULL song of _'No Way Out'_ by Phil Collins.**

**Since it's awesome and shit.**

**You know what? I'm not even gonna bother to proof read this. So sorry for grammatical mistakes.**

**I hope you enjoy reading. I CERTAINLY didn't enjoy writing it.**

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><p>The rain poured down outside, soaking the people running on the streets attempting to head home. America sighed, staring out the window. It was still light outside, so he could see clearly.<p>

His birthday was ruined.

America really hated nature right now. Since none of his friends didn't want to have a party in the rain and there wasn't enough in his house, the cancellation was inevitable.

Of course though, he was blatantly lying to himself. Canada had gotten angry at him. He had accidentally insulted France, which made the man not show up. Poland wouldn't let Lithuania come. And England would never even THINK of showing up. America would just upset him, anyways.

He walked away from his window and into his kitchen where his uneaten cake sat. He considered cutting himself a slice, but decided against it. He had no appetite at the moment. A good nap would help his mind and heart, maybe. So he laid on his couch, covering his eyes with his arm, breathing deeply and exhaling. Today was supposed to be a FUN day where him and his friends celebrated the time he became independent so long ago. He wanted to hug his friends, thanking them for coming to see him, but he had no one to hold now. Even Tony had gone home to visit his family, apparently forgetting about his friend's birthday. Had he upset the little alien as well? He hoped not. He wanted to turn back time so badly right now. To where he didn't say anything to his friends, just so he could see them here now.

But he couldn't.

America turned on his side, feeling tears spring to his eyes. No, he didn't want to cry. He was a strong country. Strong countries didn't cry, right? That's what England had always told him. But he couldn't hold back the small sob, which eventually turned into multiple sobs, his shoulders shaking. He was so alone.

He didn't want to think about anyone. He was a strong country by himself. No one had helped him. They only tried to bring him down. That's what he thought.

'Don't cry, America. Don't cry, America. Don't cry, America...' he told himself over and over again in his mind. He fell asleep to these thoughts.

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><p><em>'Engwand!'<em> America turned to the small voice calling out his former charge's name. _'Engwand! You came to see me again today!'_ The man's blue eyes widened. He was standing in a grassy field, watching a small boy with dirty blond hair run towards a man, who picked him up in his arms.

_'Of course I did!'_ the English accent rang out, causing America's heart to jump.

Was he witnessing his past? No, he couldn't be. The child him was smiling. He couldn't remember if he had always smiled so happily when he was a baby. He couldn't see England's face, only the back of his head. No one seemed to take notice of him, so he remained standing there quietly, watching the scene unfold.

_'I'm so happy, Engwand!"_ the little him chimed. England laughed, ruffling the boy's hair.

_'You know I can't stay away from you for long.' _The small America wrapped his small arms around the Brit's neck, nuzzling his face into England's neck. But things suddenly changed as it started raining. The grassy field disappeared, leaving a muddy ground in its wake.

This had to be a dream, but it all felt so real. And horribly familiar. Something he didn't want to remember. His cheeks felt wet. He felt them, realizing he was crying. And he couldn't stop, either.

The rain came down harder, but America couldn't feel. It was as if he wasn't affected by it, wasn't even there.

_'You're a damned idiot, America,' _England's voice said from behind him. America quickly turned, facing the other man straight on. England's head was down, not showing his face. America's fists clenched, a frown on his face, his eyes determined. _'You're a damned idiot. Why are you leaving me? Why? Did I do something wrong? Tell me the answer. Please.'_ England fell to his knees, hands covering his face, weeping. America wanted to touch him, but realized it was as if England didn't even know he was there. _'You couldn't of gotten ANYWHERE without me.'_ This time, England's words were much sharper and harsh sounding. _'That's why everyone left you. You refuse to see it, right_?' The other man looked up, causing America to stumble backwards and fall onto the ground, terrified.

England's face was gone.

Suddenly, other forms started to appear, beginning to surround America. All of them had no faces, but he could easily make out who they were despite that. He saw Canada. He saw France. He saw many other friends as well. But the one person he was focused on was England.

_'You're a damned idiot.'_

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><p>America woke with a start, a cold sweat covering his body. He looked around frantically, then sighed in relief when he realized it had only been a dream. No, a nightmare. He panted heavily, placing a hand on his face, which was wet. He had obviously been crying during his sleep. His arms wrapped around his legs, pulling them to his chest, going over his nightmare. He felt as if it was trying to tell him something.<p>

A knock on the door broke his train of thought. He stood and stretched, rubbing the back of his neck. As he walked to the door, the knocking got louder and louder. He opened the door and was accidentally hit in the chest by the smaller England. The Brit jumped back, surprised. America stared down at him, noticing he was soaking wet. But he didn't exactly care. He was just curious as to why England was here.

"England? What are you doing here?" America questioned. England looked away, blushing lightly.

"I, uh, no reason," he lied, not even bothering to glance at the American. Once he did though, he immediately became worried. America's eyes were red and he looked as though he had been crying. "Is something wrong?"

"Ah, no. It's nothing," America told him, laughing lightly. England stared at him, suspicious. His wrist was grabbed, pulling him inside into the warm, dry house. America walked off and came back a moment later, tossing England a towel. "Here." England thanked him and began to dry his hair, noticing America's house was strangely empty.

Once his hair was dry, he handed the towel back to America.

"Where's everybody?" he questioned. America glanced away, not wanting to answer. he was sure the other man would laugh in his face.

"Uh, they were busy," he lied. England nodded, knowing it was a lie. But he didn't say anything to the poor man. "By the way, why are YOU here?" This caught England off guard, didn't think he was going to be questioned about. He glanced away, his face slightly red.

"Well, I got off work early and decided to come see how you were enjoying yourself. It's obvious you're not, though," he explained, stuffing his hands into his pockets. America pouted.

"I AM enjoying myself! It's nice being alone!" he exclaimed, then sighed, telling himself to stop lying. England gave him a small smile, then laughed obnoxiously.

"To think, you wouldn't be where you are today without me!" he boasted, his head held high. America's breath hitched and he looked at the other man. "If that frog had gotten you, who knows what could of happened!"

That was it.

He WOULDN'T be what he was, would he?

His arms wrapped around England, embracing him. England jumped, startled.

"What are you doing, you wanker!"

"You're right."

"Huh?" England glanced at the blond head that was resting on his shoulder, confused as to what he meant.

"I wouldn't be what I am today. If YOU hadn't raised me, I would never be the way I am today," America whispered, tightening his hold. England blinked, frowning.

"I can't say I'm proud with the way you turned out..." he muttered, causing America to chuckle.

"You're the reason I'm the way I am." He pulled away, his face close to a lightly blushing England's. "YOU'RE my strength, England." This comment caused the smaller man to flush deeply and look away.

"W-well, it would only be natural!" he told him. He then coughed and looked to the American, pouting. "The truth is...I came here today to wish you a happy birthday. But don't take that to heart! I really couldn't care about your birthday or anything! I just felt sorry for you!" America smiled softly at him, then felt England's arms wrap around his back, his face nuzzling into the crook of his neck. America listened to him breath for a minute.

"England?"

"Happy Birthday, America."

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><p><strong>Never again will I write something like this.<strong>

**My next America/England fic is just gonna be some fluffy shit or some smut.**

**I dunno.**

**I'm just NEVER writing kinda depressing stuff EVER AGAIN.**

**But who knows. The song is awesome, so I may try writing something a tad different. Hopefully, it'll turn out better than this. **

**I hope you enjoyed.**


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